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The Quinjet doors had barely closed before the shouting begins, Steve, ripping off his cowl and throwing it at the wall in frustration before turning to Pietro with a look of such disappointment that it had felt like an arrow to the chest.
Well, another one anyway.
Pietro had tuned them all out, sitting silent and stoned off as Wanda tended to the actual arrow wound in his chest; as Steve lectured him about acceptable risk, as if he hadn't willingly crashed a plane into the ice, knowing that his death was almost guaranteed, as if he wasn't the biggest hypocrite on the plane.
He concentrated on the pain of the arrow wound as Tony joined in on the chorus, frowning in mock concern and warning Pietro that if he didn't stop this behaviour he would be grounded for a week. At least Tony's sarcasm meant that Steve's patented “I'm not angry, just disappointed” look was turned away from him for a moment, a blessed relief until it allowed Wanda the opportunity to project her disapproval directly into his mind.
Sam and Rhodey didn't vocalise their opinions, although the side glances and whispering that kept being directed his way made it clear that they were talking about him.
Only Clint had remained silent, a brooding, heavy presence in the pilot seat. Although, the hole in his chest that Clint's arrow had put there was pretty solid evidence that Clint was just as angry as everyone else.
Fuck.
As they touched down, Pietro had heard Steve start to talk, “Pietro, don't even think abou- - - “, but the rest of the sentence was missed as he used his super speed to escape, zooming past Natasha who was standing with her arms crossed, waiting to greet the plane.
“What did the kid do this time?” he heard her ask before he was out of range.
Great, now they would all hate him.
*
“Of all the places you could run off to, the Grand Canyon, Disneyworld, Tahiti, you choose here.”
Pietro isn't surprised Clint found him. Clint always finds him, he'd once accused the archer of planting a tracker under his skin, he remembers fondly how Clint had raised an eyebrow, “that's a good idea, kid” and proceeded to run his hands and lips over every inch of Pietro's body to determine the best place to put one.
Of course, that was before Clint had shot him with an arrow earlier today.
He feels the heat of Clint's body as he sits down next to him, legs swinging playfully as he took in the view from the very top, the 'A', of Avengers Tower.
This was their place. Their first kiss. Their first date. Their first fight. It looked like it was going to be the site of their last fight too.
“Are they kicking me out?” Pietro finally asks after a long silence.
“No.”
The relief Pietro feels from Clint's sighed response is short-lived. “Are you kicking me out?”
“Jesus, fuck, Pietro.” Clint sounds wrecked and Pietro finally turns to look at him, seeing how tired and guilty and just plain done he looks. “You need to stop running into danger like that.”
“But, I'm an Avenger. That's what we do.” It feels like they've had this argument a million times before and Pietro is so damn tired of it.
“No. OK, no. We are Avengers, yes. We save people, yes. We take risks, yes. We do not throw ourselves into certain death when it can be easily avoided. We don't...Jesus, Pietro, we don't put the people who love us in the position where they have to goddamn shoot us just to stop us from doing something stupid.”
“I he- - .”
“Don't you dare say, you heal.” Clint interrupts. “You are not immortal. You are not invincible. I've already spent too long sitting at the side of a hospital bed, waiting on you healing.” Clint spits the word out like it's the worst kind of curse. “Pietro...please. I'm begging you. Just, please start thinking about yourself before doing these things. Think about Wanda. Think about..think about me. You are a good person and you are loved. Please, please start taking care of yourself.”
Clint's voice is raw and pleading and something inside of Pietro breaks as he is forced to see the pain that his actions have caused.
It's true, every word of it. He is careless, he does throw himself into danger without a second thought. It's...it's what he thought he needed to do. To atone. To redeem himself. To prove himself.
Looking at Clint, hearing Clint beg, he starts to realise how badly he's fucked up.
“I....” Clint looks so hopeful as Pietro begins to speak that the words falter in his head. God, he doesn't deserve this man but he's going to do his best to make sure that one day he will. “I think maybe I should speak to someone. A professional maybe. I want to be better. I want to...”
Clint pulls him close, so close Pietro can taste the salt of his tears. “We'll make it happen. I'll get a list of people from Dr Cho.” Clint laughs brightly as Pietro returns the embrace. “I don't ever want to have to shoot you again, brat.”
They stay there, on top of the world, looking out at the sights and sounds of the city for a long time, neither one ready to go in and face the music just yet, both wanting to stay as they are, happy and in love for a while longer.
But, for the first time since...well, since HYDRA, Pietro feels like it's OK to want that, like it all just might turn out fine.